"Across Seibæk’s paintings, the I loses its outline, an imperfect circle briefly finding the certainty of a polygon. The marks move between organism and diagram, as the whale enters the wrongness of a silence.
Seibæk once loved playing the cello while resisting the written score. Here it seems the notation has snuck back as afterimage and sounding board, garbled into bronze alphabet through which another kind of call learned to enter her Monet-haunted waters.
The whale’s loneliness partly belongs to us. The paintings hold the uneasy moment when another creature’s voice begins to sound like something we recognise in ourselves. "
Read full article here